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Fuck Titles

Dead on arrival; my heart stopped beating along time ago.
Maybe it never had a beat to begin with
and beneath my ribs lies nothing but a deep dark hole.

A hole in which the world could fit;
a hole which absorbs the bad and holds on for dear life,
whilst moments more enjoyable are limited and fleeting.

Tear away at my brittle frame as it’s smashed beyond recognition,
appendages like chameleons turn purple and blue.
The side affect of a mind gone haywire,
a single notch too far in the red,
over-loaded,
burnt out,
exhausted chaos.

Journal Comments

  • Matt Penrose